


Home in the woods

by queerly_it_is



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerly_it_is/pseuds/queerly_it_is
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out Carlos is immune to the Whispering Forest</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home in the woods

**Author's Note:**

> So this just happened smack in the middle of a different Night Vale fic I was writing, and I decided it worked better on its own. Reposted from tumblr. Title from Cory Chisel.

It turns out Carlos is immune to the Whispering Forest.

He learns this by accident, while (ill-advisedly, he admits) running in to save Cecil during a minor outbreak of wormholes that randomly shift the locations of everyone in the town.

Carlos considers it for at _least_ the amount of time it takes for the nerve impulse to travel from his brain to his legs, and then he’s running, _sprinting_ into the shade of the trees, past the sign erected by the City Council that reads:

_DON’T. NO REALLY. JUST **DON’T**._

The forest really is very pretty; there’s a thick carpet of mosses and fungi and crushed leaves beneath his feet, churning up the woodland smells as he runs for the oddly _distant_ speck that is Cecil, like a water mirage on a highway.

The trees are dense and tall, knitted together in a vibrant green canopy above him, and there’s a distinct rich humidity that he’s not used to after more than a year of breathing desert air. Even the light is different; warm and golden instead of mauve and vaguely pulsing. In fact the sun appears to be in a totally different part of the sky. He hopes it’s the sun anyway.

And under the normal sensory input, he can just about make out:

_“That lab coat looks great on you, and have you done something with your hair?”_

He knows it should be affecting him somehow, but he keeps running, rounding trees and bushes, and now he can hear Cecil’s voice – his casual tone and not the more sonorous one he uses on the radio.

His lungs are burning and his legs are aching. The welcoming rays of sunlight seem to follow him, like a spotlight tracking a stage actor, and his panting just barely covers the forest complimenting him on his socks.

Carlos’ foot catches on a root and he stumbles, hops to regain his balance, then keeps running, aimed at the vibrant yellow of Cecil’s sweater vest.

They more or less collide, and since Cecil isn’t an immovable object and Carlos is a long way from being an unstoppable force, they crash down into the leaf litter with a dual _oomph!_ and a tangling of limbs.

“Wha—Carlos!” Cecil exclaims, face lighting up in a bright grin. “I wasn’t expecting you! More scientific tree testing?”

Carlos is panting, sucking in air that’s probably full of mind-altering spores or who knows what else, but Cecil’s warm and alive under his hands, most definitely not rooted to the soil yet, so he doesn’t care that he’s possibly having an asthma attack.

“Cecil,” he wheezes, pressing at a sharp pain in his side. _Lactic acid_ , his brain supplies, utterly unhelpfully. “Have to—come with me—not safe.”

He levers himself to his feet, loose dirt falling from his clothes, and as he offers a hand to Cecil he sees roots, bone-pale and glistening, reaching for Cecil’s feet.

“Of course,” Cecil says, grabbing his hand. “You have such soft skin, has anyone told you that?”

“I think the trees might have,” Carlos mutters, tugging until Cecil’s upright along with him. “Now c’mon, before—”

“Ah, the trees,” Cecil says, sounding a little more like his radio persona as he looks upward with a vacant smile. “Aren’t they wonderful? Not as wonderful as you of course, but still quite lovely.”

“Cecil,” Carlos insists, dragging him a little further from the creeping roots. A pine next to him whispers faintly that his glasses showcase his cheekbones wonderfully, and that it would really like to be his friend. He shakes his head. “Cecil come with me.”

“They really _are_ us,” Cecil murmurs, and those roots are much too close now.

Carlos squeezes Cecil’s hand and starts to practically drag him back towards the town, ignoring the pull in his shoulder and the offhand thanks Cecil offers to the trees for inviting him to stay with them.

It’s slow going, and every time Carlos has to stop and verbally shake Cecil out of his trance his stomach tightens more, heart thudding faster.

“Cecil _please_ ,” he snaps the third time they stop. Cecil has a hand on the bark of the nearest tree, and the warm shaft of light is all around him. His feet are at least a few inches deeper into the soil than Carlos’, even though they’re standing close together.

“Hmm?” Cecil responds, but only barely. He’s got that terrible absent smile on his face again, and he’s bobbing his head as if he can hear music. His grip on Carlos’ hand is getting looser.

“We need to get _out_ , Cecil,” Carlos says, putting his other hand on Cecil’s forearm. His skin’s cold, and there’s something about the texture…

“Oh but why? It’s so… _charming_.”

He sighs through gritted teeth, “Yes I’m sure it is, but I—I have something important to—” he stalls as Cecil visibly sinks another inch into the ground, panic clawing upwards through his trachea. “I uh—I want to kiss you!”

Cecil jerks back to attention, blinking owlishly. His eyes are green. _Forest green_.

“Y-you do?”

“Yes,” Carlos breathes, a little desperately. “But back in town, okay? In Night Vale. You love Night Vale, Cecil, remember?”

A furrow works itself between Cecil’s eyebrows. There’s a brownish patch forming in the crook of his elbow. The tips of his fingers are damp, cool.

“I—I think so,” he says. “And you, I—I love you, Carlos.”

Carlos makes a choked noise, animal-like, trapped and full of fear.

“Then come with me,” he says, firm, squeezing Cecil’s hand again.

Cecil swallows, blinks. His eyes are slightly less green.

“Alright,” he says, slowly with a tilt in the word like a question.

Carlos waits even less time than he did to enter the forest to begin with. They run, Cecil actually running _with_ him this time, still keeping their fingers tangled.

All around them the forest is getting darker, colder, more fallen branches and dead leaves piling up in front of them, the ‘sun’ leeching the colour from their clothes and skin.

When they break out of the tree line and into the abruptly hot, _dry_ air with its staticky tingle and faint smell of honey, feet suddenly scraping sand and desiccated earth, Carlos can’t stop a hysterical, breathless burst of laughter from falling out of his mouth.

Cecil’s hand spasms in his, clenches, and when Carlos turns to look at him he’s wearing a puzzled frown. His hair’s fluffed out in parts and his glasses are askew, tie bunched up above the collar of his sweater vest and leaves clinging to his pant legs.

“You’ve never looked better,” Carlos says, grinning so wide it hurts, and Cecil blushes a distinct not-green, and then makes a muffled sound when Carlos leans in and kisses him, their clasped hands falling loosely between them.

“ _Lips_ ,” Cecil squeaks when they pull apart, immediately looking horrified at himself, and this time the laugh bubbles out of Carlos’ chest, rolls off his tongue and into the Night Vale air while Cecil butts his head onto Carlos’ shoulder with a resounding, “Ugh.”

Carlos turns his head, plants another kiss on Cecil’s cheek, puts an arm around his waist, and doesn’t even bother asking why the forest didn’t affect him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Home in the Woods [podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110240) by [KD reads (KDHeart)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KDHeart/pseuds/KD%20reads)




End file.
